Out in Arizona where the bad men are, and the only friend to guide you
is an evening star,
The roughest, toughest, man, by far, is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep.
Every night they say he sings the herd to sleep in a basso rich and
Crooning soft and low.
He always sings, raggy music to the cattle,
as he swings back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse, that is syncopated, giated, and there's
such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run, when they hear that fellows gun,
because the Western folk all know,
He's a high-falutin' , scootin', shootin', son-of-a-gun
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Dressed up ev'ry Sunday in his Sunday clothes,
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
And ev'ry girl in town is Joe's, 'cause he's a ragtime bear.
When he starts a-spieling on the dance hall floor.
No one but a lunatic would start a war.
Wise men know his forty-four. Makes men dance for fair. Chorus